


grace is weakness (or so i've been told)

by clumsyclouds



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, F/F, Heavy Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Adora (She-Ra), POV Catra (She-Ra), Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 01, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 21:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clumsyclouds/pseuds/clumsyclouds
Summary: my past has tasted bitter for years now, so i wield an iron fistgrace is just weakness or so I've been toldi've been cold, i've been mercilessbut the blood on my hands scares me to deathmaybe i'm waking up todayORCatra fucks up bad, and Adora is doing it all wrong. Perhaps they'll get it right in the end.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

Exhaustion haunted Adora’s bones, muscles strained while adrenaline still pumped through Catra’s veins. A vicious smile spread over her face as she further pushed Adora to the edge of the cliff. Despite She-ra being strong, she wasn’t invincible, and the battle had taken its toll on her in every sense of the word.

 

She couldn’t look behind her, any and all energy she could spare was directed to staying alive, trying to talk Catra down from whatever sick high she was on, trying to counter her attacks, trying to gain _something_ . Not that she _had_ to look at the war zone behind her to know that it wasn’t going well. This was a battle that they’d lost. She knew it already. Perhaps she’d just given up, but her gut was telling her that it was over for them. Over for her, at least. Every second was bringing her closer and closer to her death.

 

Catra, on the other hand, had never been less exhausted in her life. She was finally proving her worth! No one could tell her that she was second best now! Not Shadow Weaver, not Hordak, not _Adora,_ no one! She would finally earn their respect. No, she wouldn’t just earn it, she would rip it from their puny hands and force them to respect her, to _fear_ her and her potential. Why should she stop when she felt so fucking good? She didn’t even hear or care for whatever Adora said, whatever _She-ra_ said.

 

Hah, there was another bitter reminder of everything that had gone wrong in her life. Of course, out of all people in her life, stupid Adora had to be a princess, she'd always been one step ahead, always better, a better cadet, a better Force Captain, a better ward, a better person.

 

But not anymore. Finally, Catra would get rid of the one thing holding her back, who’d always been holding her back.

 

During all the fighting Adora had gotten tired, not just physically, but emotionally. She’d lost more than just the battle, she’d lost a part of herself, and she was losing more and more with each strike against her best friend. Adora wanted to do as little damage as she possibly could. Her goal was to neutralise her, not kill or hurt her and Catra did _not_ shy away from taking full advantage of that fact. She jumped back from their weapons pushing against each other and quickly turned left, letting Adora fall flat onto the ground. The sword clattered on the rock surface, handle slipping out of her grasp. Her suit was torn on the back, blood tainting the pearl white fabric. She-ra wasn’t invincible, but she was as close to it as one could get, and Force Captain Catra would end her. Nothing gave her more of a power rush than that.

 

Adora yelped as Catra’s foot dug into her back, the sharp nails tearing into the skin.

 

“It’s over, _princess._ I’ve won,” she spat and ripped her nails out, resulting in another pained noise and proceeded to turn Adora onto her back. Catra got down on the ground, knee digging into her chest as she stared down at her...enemy, their faces close.

 

“I know,” Adora murmured, tears slipping down her face, but still she mustered up a smile that screamed of regret and care and love and sadness. Catra didn’t want to see it, but she couldn’t look away.

 

“Beg for your life, then,” she insisted, but received no reply. Instead, a trembling hand reached up to sift her fingers through Catra’s hair. It felt strangely foreign, despite being something she always used to do.

 

“I won’t. I know I lost, and I know you’re going to—” She swallowed the words, smile falling for a brief moment. “I don’t want to die, but I know you feel that you have to do this, and I just want you to know that it’s okay. I forgive you—”

 

“Shut up!” Catra yelled, fangs flashing as she connected her fist with the other’s face who sputtered up blood, spitting it out beside her face. “I don’t need your fucking approval. Stop acting like you’re _letting_ me kill you!”

 

“I’m not, I just know that you’re gonna regret this once you do it, b-but it’s okay. Just try to do better after this. I know you don’t want to do it. But...you think you have to, and it’s okay.”

 

Catra’s jaw clenched before she opened it to hiss at Adora. Damn her for making herself a fucking martyr. Damn her for making Catra’s hands shaky.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“I’m sorry for leaving you, I’m sorry for letting you believe that you were somehow worth less than me, you never were. I’m sorry for letting Shadow Weaver mess you up like she did, I’m sorry for not taking you with me that first night, I’m sorry for not—” Adora coughed, and She-ra’s glow dulled even further, tears were now freely falling down her face.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“You were my best friend, Catra. You still are, at least who you used to be. This isn’t you, this isn’t who you wanted to be, you wanted to be respected, but you never wanted to be a monster.”

 

Catra gripped Adora’s wrist still touching her hair and slammed it into the ground, and found hot, wet tears falling down her face, too.

 

“Can’t you see? I _am_ a monster! I was _always_ a monster, you were always the better cadet, the favoured child, the fucking _princess._ God, you’re so _stupid._ No matter what I do I will always end up here! So why not at least be good at the few things I can do?” She was shaking violently now, but her grip was still strong. She wouldn’t let her slip this time. Adora wouldn’t get away. Catra would be strong this time.

 

“...Catra...you were never a monster to me. You could do so much more, _be_ so much more. You’re so strong, and you care about what’s right, deep down. So don’t...don’t do something you’ll regret just because you're hurt.”

Catra groaned, frustrated tears blurred her vision for a moment. “I’m tired of you thinking you know me, you don’t know the first thing about me and who I’ve become. I’m strong, alright, but not like you want me to be. I’m strong enough to kill you and end the Rebellion once and for all. Strong enough to prove Shadow Weaver and Hordak wrong.”

 

For a moment neither of them said anything. Simply staring into each other’s eyes. Adora saw fear, regret already creeping in behind the blue and yellow, perhaps there was even desperation.

 

Catra saw nothing but defeat, and while it should have given her a rush, it did nothing but to make her feel guilty. She refused to feel guilty about this. She had to do this, there was no other way.

 

“Then kill me.”

 

Adora’s eyes were back to normal, her body was still She-ra but her eyes were back to the muted blue she’d grown way too fond of and why did that affect her so much? Before she could think any further she hopped up onto her feet and took the sword off the ground, it was heavier than she’d expected. Catra brought the tip to her throat and found that Adora didn’t even flinch.

 

“I’m sorry for not being there for you, and I...I need to say something I should’ve told you a long time ago, something that you should’ve heard more, something you deserved more of.” Catra's jaw clenched, anger pulsing through her veins.

 

“I don’t want to hear it.”

 

“I know, Catra, I know, but I need to say it,” she said and paused for a moment, terrified of opening her mouth, but if she was to die anyway... “I...I love you and I’m sorry.”

 

Catra’s breath hitched in her throat and her eyes widened, jaw clenching so hard she swore she could hear her teeth crack. Her hands tightened against the sword, body leaning forward, but she didn’t push the blade further.

 

What the hell was stopping her? She-ra was at her mercy, the odds were in the Horde’s favour, but still she couldn’t move her increasingly shaky hands.

 

“It’s okay. I forgive you. It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, nose stuffy and red, voice shaking as she took the blade into her hand and held it steady against her neck. Catra could see her arm shaking.

 

In front of her was the most pathetic being she’d ever seen. Weak, barely being able to hold up her own limbs, blood coming out the corner of her mouth and down her cheeks along with the never ending tears. Her golden hair was matted and dirty, clothes basically torn to shreds, knees bleeding and eyes weary. But _still_ Adora had a grace, a strength about her. Despite having completely given up on her own life she had enough strength left for herself and Catra to hold the weapon that would kill her.

 

And despite being an easy kill, despite nothing and no one stopping her, despite Catra feeling _so ready,_ or at least thinking she did, her body refused to fucking move.

 

“I just wanted to be good enough for _someone,_ ” Catra whispered, a whimpering sob bubbling up from her throat. Whatever prompted her honesty she would never know.

 

“You were good enough for me.”

 

“And then you left to be with some stupid princesses! Over me! If I was good enough for you then why did you leave? Why did you leave the Horde, being a Force Captain, ruling the world, everything you’ve ever dreamed of, why did you leave _me_?” Now it was her turn to sound pathetic, and she could feel her grip on the handle weakening. As soon as she noticed it Catra sniffled, shook her head to fight away the tears and tightened her grip again.

 

“I wanted you to come with me. I asked you, remember? You said no! I swear, I thought I’d come back, I wanted to come back for you, I wanted you to say yes, so badly. Why didn’t you say yes?"

 

“Because I would’ve never been good enough for them! Maybe I was good enough for you. _Maybe._ But those princesses will never accept me! They’ll never think I’m good enough, especially not compared to you!”

 

Why didn’t Adora see it? Couldn’t she see that this was all that Catra was any good for? To be a monster and kill the people she loved?

 

She tried to unthink that thought, but no matter how hard she tried to push away the fact that she loved Adora it persisted. Not that it really changed anything. Catra still had to kill her. It was the only way to be proven worthy, if she defeated She-ra, the strongest princess of them all, and eliminated her own final weakness, then she’d finally have nothing to stop her.

 

“You would never have been enough for Shadow Weaver or Hordak either, you never will be. They’ll always find things that you did wrong, always punish you in some way. Always find ways to make you believe that you’re not good enough.”

 

“If I kill you Hordak will be proud of me. Shadow Weaver is long gone. From my point of view, I have nothing to lose.”

 

“Then fucking kill me, Catra. Just do it. We’ve been talking a lot, but you still haven’t struck that sword through my throat.”

 

She tightened her grip, almost unnoticeably pushing the tip of the blade further. Adora whimpered, head instinctively flinching away, but she had nowhere to go. A tiny, red drop slowly made its way down her neck.

 

Explosives went off behind them, screams of agony wailed through the air and the wind blew cold around them. Dark clouds became even darker and the world seemed to be in complete chaos. Yet, for Catra and Adora it felt like they were somewhere else entirely. A place where no one made a sound, the only noise being their bated breaths as their stares remained unbroken.

 

There was a sudden, small flash of light and She-ra was gone. Instead there was Adora, panting and still looking into Catra’s eyes. She refused to look away, perhaps in a last attempt at bravery and dignity and Catra found herself not being able to look away either.

 

The silence continued, and it felt like they were in the most important place in the whole universe, and who could tell, perhaps they were?

 

Adora’s head was filled with regrets of things she never got to say, memories of the good and the bad. Trying desperately to prepare for death, and she thought that perhaps she was okay with it. If she couldn’t do anything about it, then why should she worry. She just wished she could have done more.

 

Catra’s was filled with a slowly changing mantra.

 

_I want to kill her._

 

_I need to kill her._

 

_I have to kill her._

 

_I have no choice._

 

_I can’t kill her._

 

_I don’t want to kill her._

 

Catra let out a final roar, raising the sword above her head. She was going to strike. She _had_ to. She’d been preparing herself for this moment for so long, there was no way back now. Catra readied herself while Adora braced for impact and pain. They both knew that it was going to happen. Soon, She-ra would be no more and Catra could claim her victory.

 

Wasn’t that what she wanted?

 

She thought she did.

 

Then, suddenly the sword was clattering to the rock surface beneath and Catra fell to her knees with a muted thud. Her hands flew up to her face and covered it to preserve some dignity, and perhaps so she wouldn’t have to see Adora’s face.

 

_Oh, God. Adora._

 

Quickly, she scurried backwards until her back hit the mountain wall. She wanted nothing more than to disappear, but remained frozen to the ground, her whole body shivering from everything but the cold.

 

Adora, on the other hand, was stunned and sobbing with relief. She’d been ready to die, she’d accepted it, but by no means did she want to, she hadn’t even realised how tensed up she’d been. Slowly she propped herself up on her elbows. Everything hurt, but something else was on her mind at the moment. Eyes looked around and found Catra hunched over, knees hugged tightly to her chest, tail curling around her feet.

 

Despite the person in front of her looking so pitiful Adora approached with caution. She didn’t dare assume that the other wouldn’t claw her eyes out, but the instinct to comfort her friend, or...whatever she was to her, was too strong. Tentatively, she reached a hand out to her knee. In return, Catra looked up with wild eyes, hissing as she flashed her fangs before looking back down.

 

But there were no claws.

 

Adora moved closer still and slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, still ready to get her eyes clawed out, but while Catra tensed up at the touch and fell silent, she let herself be embraced, or at the very least didn’t attack. Instead, she began shaking, most likely from the effort of keeping her cries in.

 

“Stop forgiving me! Stop it! I don’t want your pity or comfort. Why the hell are you doing this? I was gonna...” Her voice halted, cracking into a sob. “I hate you.”

 

Every instinct inside her was screaming to just hold Catra tightly against her chest and protect her from the world. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

 

“I can’t go back, Adora. I can’t. I’ll never be able to go back, not after failing like this,” she whimpered, beginning to rock back and forth.

 

“Then come with me. I promise, they’ll learn to accept you just like they accepted me, just come...come home with me.”

 

“They will _never_ forgive me. No one will accept me after this. I fucked up big-time. This attack was the point of no return, and now that I failed to kill you I have nowhere to go.”

 

Catra had known that as soon as the attack began she would lose all chances of ever joining the Rebellion and lose Adora, too. Hell, that had basically been part of the deal. She just couldn’t believe that they would ever accept her into their perfect little world, not after what she’d done to them, and to their precious She-ra. By marching out of the Fright Zone she had pledged her loyalty and sold her soul to the Horde. If she came back after failing to defeat She-ra Hordak would think her weak, throw her away like the rest of the rags. She passed the point of no return, but now she couldn’t even move forward.

 

Finally, she forced her legs to move, ripping out of Adora’s warm embrace despite not wanting to. Catra wished she could have her, but she never would. It was too late, no matter what Adora said.

 

“Please, don’t. We can fix this! Just...stay,” she begged.

 

Her legs backed her towards the cliff, and with one final, long look at Adora’s face she said, “I...I can’t.”

 

With that, Catra launched herself off the cliffside, landing on the scaffolding beneath and continuing until she reached the still undestroyed part of the Whispering Woods, disappearing in between the trees and bushes.

 

Adora watched, powerless to stop her as she disappeared from sight. All she could hope for was that she’d be okay. Perhaps that, once the dust had settled, she could go out there and find her, bring her home.

 

But where the hell was even home anymore?

 

Once again she fell down on the ground, feeling numb despite the tears rolling down her face and her shaking shoulder. Perhaps she _had_ died, perhaps her mind was in a desperate attempt at denial and she was just trying her best to avoid it. But then the sword was pulsing beside her, a reminder that she was still very much alive. It filled her with relief and dread simultaneously.

 

It was as if the pulsing slowly brought her back in tune with the rest of the world. Explosions and screams faded back into her ears and she felt how harsh the wind really was as her hair whipped into her face. In the distance she could see Glimmer teleporting away and Bow shooting an arrow before moving on to the next target. Perfuma was throwing her vines in the air, and Adora realised that the battle wasn’t over yet, as she had thought.

 

She may have lost Catra for now, but there was still a battle to fight. They needed She-ra now more than ever. Her hand reached out for the sword, feeling her skin tingle with the familiar energy.

 

“For the honour of Grayskull!” she called, her arm raising the sword as high as she could reach.

 

And with that she was off to fight another battle, pushing aside for the moment everything that had happened on that cliffside. Time for processing could come later. Now she was here to fight.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we get some insight into what's happening with catra after the battle
> 
> she meets an unexpected friend, thinks and overthinks and makes a foolish decision
> 
> or perhaps it isn't so foolish?

 

 

 

Her surroundings whooshed past her while she tried to get as far away as she could. Catra hadn’t been properly watching her step in a desperate attempt to escape the battle, didn’t even care that the sounds of bombs and weapons firing had long since faded. While tumbling forward she’d tripped on a branch, but her foot got stuck in between it and the ground. Now she could hardly move her foot without wanting to yell out in pain, she looked down to find it twisted oddly and with thorns digging into the flesh. 

 

Without any gentleness, she pulled most of them out. The faster they were gone, the faster she could keep on moving. Except she quickly found that she couldn’t put any weight on her foot.

 

“Damnit!” she yelled into the sky, watching as some birds fly away, startled by the noise.

 

Despite wanting to lie down and pass the fuck out she determinedly made her way deeper into the ever-moving forests using a stick to support her weight. No map, no destination, nothing to help her find her way. She’d made a stupid impulse decision and she was paying the price for it. It’s not like there had been very many other options. She couldn’t go back, and she couldn’t go forward, death awaited her on both ends. Hordak would kill her for failing her mission, and the Rebellion would kill her for being a Horde soldier. The only reason they hadn’t killed Adora when she appeared was because she was She-Ra. When her options were to become She-Ra, be killed or to hide, the latter seemed more appropriate.

 

Then again, what was a life stuck in limbo?

 

Catra had no clue how long she’d been walking through the forest, (Perhaps crawling was a better word.) but finally the exhaustion caught up to her body and she had to stop. A stone behind her became a decently functional backrest. She placed another stone for her to elevate her most likely broken and bleeding foot upon.

 

If Catra didn’t get to food and water soon she wasn’t sure how she’d pull through, but for now she had to rest. The biggest downside was the fact that the forest was huge and silent and the thoughts in her head refused to fucking shut up. In and of itself that wasn’t too bad, at the very least it was normal, it always happened after a battle, especially one as violent as the one she’d just been in, but she was alone, had no place to go back to, a wounded foot and not only had she killed rebels, but almost murdered her best friend. Could they even be called friends anymore? She wasn’t so sure that they had the right to that title. 

 

Up above the sky cleared from the dark clouds previously occupying the atmosphere. The Rebellion had won somehow. Catra couldn’t bring herself to feel neither relief nor misery. 

 

Her eyes remained fixed on the increasingly twinkling stars barely visible through the tops of the trees. Soon came the moon, pearly face shining down and as it rose higher and the air became cooler, Catra’s eyelids grew heavy as well. Inevitably, she succumbed to her exhaustion.

 

-

 

-

 

Touch. 

 

She could feel the soft, but thick feeling of a blanket. Not those synthetic, rough ones they had back at the Horde, no, this was real fabric. Cotton, maybe?

 

Sight. 

 

There was light coming from somewhere to her left from her half-sitting position. It was way too fucking bright. She just wanted to go back to sleep. 

 

Hearing. 

 

Catra’s ears twitched at the sound of metal clinking together, but not weapon-metal, more like pots and pans. Her guess was confirmed as there she heard the low whistling of a kettle. 

 

Apparently, her comprehension returned, too, because where the hell was she and who moved her? Had the Rebellion already found and captured her?

 

With a jerk she sat up further, propping herself up on her arms to observe her surroundings. The next second she was yelping as a spark of pain shot up from her foot into her leg. There were strips of fabric tied to it, apparently someone tended to it while she was asleep. Goddamnit, she really  _ did _ break that stupid foot. Well, no escaping for Catra, then. 

 

“Ah! You’re awake.” 

 

Catra turned to see an old lady hunched by the fireplace, and as could be expected, a kettle sat on top. The lady had long and bushy white hair going down her back, a purple-pink-ish robe hanging over her back and almost comically huge glasses on her nose. She seemed harmless enough, could be pacified if needed.

 

“Who are you? Why am I here?” asked Catra without wasting another moment, looking around to gain a better sense of her surroundings. It seemed to be a standard (albeit messy) cottage. She could see the Whispering Woods right outside the window, so they weren’t far, probably. Besides, it didn’t seem like that old lady could carry very much by herself, least of all a passed out Catra. 

 

“I’m Madame Razz, and you’re here because I’m nice enough not to let a young lady like you just lie around to starve. In the middle of the Whispering Woods no less! What, might I ask, were you doing out there?” Madame Razz moved the kettle away from the fireplace and placed a cauldron instead. She picked up a wooden spoon to mix it, but quickly pointed it at Catra accusingly.

 

The nerve of that hag! Speaking as if Catra had been the stupid one. If it had been such a burden then she shouldn’t have bothered to do anything at all. She asked herself why she was still sitting here, by the way?

 

“None of your business,” she grumbled and looked over her foot. Right. She probably wouldn’t be able to move until it healed somewhat. Would that mean she was stuck with this cooky woman? Though, Catra supposed that being stuck with a cooky old woman who offered food and shelter was better than being out there in the middle of nowhere.

 

“I’ll get a story out of you some day,” she promised and made her way over with a bowl of some kind of stew, “and once you’re a bit better I expect you to help out around here!” 

 

“Excuse me, whatever-your-name-is, once ‘I’m a bit better’ I will be out of here. I’m not out here to be stuck in a dump like this.” 

 

“Hm. Well, that is, of course,  _ if _ you get better at all, but...I really hope so,” she said and her smile fell for a moment or two, then she went back to her cauldron.

 

It was tempting to throw the bowl of stew away, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. To further prove just how hungry she was Catra’s stomach rumbled loud enough for both of them to hear. Though Madame Razz just wrinkled her nose and put a hand to her ear.

 

“Was that a lion roaring in the distance? I have quite poor hearing, which is why I have my glasses, of course, but I forgot them somewhere and can’t find them back.” Razz scratched the top of her head and took a brief look around her cottage, but turned back to the cauldron.

 

Catra couldn’t stop herself, she realised that this woman was weird and possibly a tiny bit unstable, but she just had to point it out. “You’re wearing your glasses, and they’re for sight, not hearing.”

 

“Really? That’s odd. I could have sworn that I lost them,” she said and patted her face, eventually settling on the rim of her glasses. “Ah, yes, you were right. Thank you, dear.”

 

For lack of a better response Catra simply rolled her eyes and ate the stew. It was kind of spicy, and she’d rather not think about what exactly was in it, but it was...sufficient. Perhaps she was just  _ really _ hungry, but nonetheless her stomach was happier for it. Catra entertained the thought that this crazy lady might not be as bad as she first thought. At the very least she was tolerable until she could get back to travelling. Perhaps she’d go to Seaworthy, or some other distant civilisation, far away from the Rebellion and the Horde. Far away from everything. 

 

-

 

-

 

Days passed, and little by little, Catra could move around within the confines of the cottage. To get her dose of fresh air she’d sit by the window as she sipped on some coffee that Razz made for her.

 

It felt weird to be at peace. It wasn’t even really at peace, she wasn’t content, didn’t feel ‘good’. It was more all of the...idleness. Madame Razz was mostly out and about in the forest during the day, including this one. Not that Catra could understand why. It was pouring outside. Regardless, she was usually left to her own devices until Razz came back around dusk. Seeing as Catra couldn’t really move across long distances she was left with nothing more than her thoughts. She fucking  _ hated _ it. Sure, she escaped(fled) a war, but another one was going on inside her head. 

 

Thoughts and questions were rumbling around, the two sides of her remaining in a constant battle with each other. See, there was one part of her that wanted to go back to the Horde, or at least continue fighting the Rebellion. For stability more than anything. She knew how to fight like a Horde soldier, and perhaps that would be all she’d ever know. Then there was the part of her that wanted to...trust Adora, and take her chances with the Rebellion. If she apologised, and actually meant it, if she changed herself, would they let her join them? 

 

In the end, chances were that she’d do neither. She’d stay with Razz until her foot was healed, flee to some remote town or village, change her name and try to escape the world around her for as long as she possibly could. If she couldn’t go back or move on, there were only the lefts and rights to choose from. Right?

 

Catra looked down and stirred her tea around before taking a small sip. Even just the two weeks she’d stayed with Razz she couldn’t deny how much she...didn’t hate it. She’d never outright said it to her, but kept asking for another brew everyday. If that wasn’t a huge hint then she didn’t know what was. 

 

As all things usually did for Catra, her thoughts drifted back to Adora. This time, she reminisced on old times, back when it all felt okay. Well, perhaps it had never felt okay, but back when it had felt...tolerable. Back when the good had still outweighed the bad. Back when Catra had still been sure that Adora would be there for her. 

 

Though, in hindsight, perhaps Catra hadn’t really seen her own past wrongs either. Not just the major ones like being part of an evil army out to kill innocent people, not kidnapping her friends and letting them essentially get tortured, not even trying to kill her, even if all of that was a part of it. It was more before Adora left, more of the ‘I-should-have-realised-that-what-I-did-was-wrong-and-apologised-but-I’m-insecure-and-I-express-it-by-being-mean’ kind of issues. Like all of the times where Adora had tried to make Catra feel better, help her out after a really rough yelling session with Shadow Weaver,  _ protected her _ from Shadow Weaver, at least drawn the attention away, but instead of accepting the help, she’d shunned Adora, cussed her out and told her to fuck off. 

 

She groaned and bumped her head against the wall. Despite the stubborn and persistent attempts to push Adora away she’d never left. She still defended Catra, talked to her, hung out with her, been friends with her, been...kind. Until she left to be with a bunch of sparkly twats and a shiny sword. 

 

It’s not like Adora had been right when it came down to it. It’s not like Catra  _ didn’t _ hold an intense amount of resentment for that, but still there was a part that wondered if it was her fault that Adora finally left. Had she truly, once and for all succeeded in pushing her away? She’d thought about that a lot during the nights of loneliness. The nights where Catra finally realised that she wasn’t coming back. 

 

Then it evolved into hate and bitterness. 

 

It evolved into her thinking that Adora thought she was better than Catra, always treated her like second best, like she could teach Catra how to behave and fight and live. Always had to pity her and treat her like a fucking baby. Like a  _ sidekick _ . 

 

Yeah, whatever Catra said or did she was clearly not anywhere near being over Adora, in every sense of the word. 

 

Finally she was pulled out of her thoughts as the door creaked open. In came a very soaked Madame Razz. Despite the thought of being out in the rain like that was Catra’s worst nightmare, Razz didn’t look particularly phased, in fact, she seemed pleased. The basket that had been empty when she left was now filled to the brim with some kind of purple berry that Catra had never seen before. She put it by the fireplace and proceeded to change her drenched robe into a dry one, shake the water out of her hair and start to mill about the kitchen. Catra found that to be the standard routine. Place down belongings, undress, walk through the kitchen(seemingly without purpose) and then sit by the fireplace. 

 

“You should come out to pick berries with me soon. It gets lonely out there.”

 

“My foot is still broken,” Catra said matter-of-factly and looked back out the window.

 

“Broken? Bah! It never was, you know. Smart girl like you, I’m surprised that you hadn’t figured it out. Then again, maybe you aren’t as smart as you seem.” 

 

Catra’s head snapped around so fast she could’ve gotten whiplash. “I’m  _ not _ stupid! What do you mean it’s not broken?”

 

Razz chuckled lowly and poured some of the berries into the cauldron over the fireplace. At first, Catra didn’t think she was going to elaborate further on the matter, but finally the woman spoke, a smile that wasn’t quite interpretable on her lips. 

 

“You stepped on a thorn, a cursed thorn.”

 

_ What. The. Fuck. _

 

“So?”

 

Razz sighed and rolled her eyes, but replied nonetheless. “There is something that you must atone for, and only once you’ve atoned will your foot stop hurting.”

 

So, not only was her foot preventing her from leaving, it was cursed, too! What the hell was she atoning for? 

 

Catra wasn’t stupid, she knew, and as soon as realisation dawned on her the anger joined in. Irrational, but there and uncontrollable nonetheless. 

 

“It seems that you know what you have to atone for.” 

 

Immediately, she stood up from her place by the window and hurled herself to Razz, her hands reach out to the woman’s shoulders, startling her, but evidently not scaring her. She flinched, but her eyes remained indifferent, mirthful if anything.

 

“Stop it, stop this curse! You can take the thorn out, right? There  _ has _ to be some fucking cure or something!”

 

“If the thorn is removed or not doesn’t matter, I removed it as soon as I saw it, but a curse is a curse, there is no magical cure to make your problems go away. Face them or live the rest of your life in pain.”

 

Catra leaned back, eyes staring into nothing as she wracked her brain for a solution, a cure, someone who’d know of a cure, anything! How could she possibly atone for trying to murder Adora, murdering innocent people, turning a blind eye to the Horde and their heinous cruelties? 

 

“I’ll just get a fucking cane and live like this. It sucks, but I will never atone for what I’ve done no matter what I do.”

 

“Then you will feel the pain spread and worsen until you can’t even lift a hand to put yourself out of your misery.”

 

Catra was stunned into silence by the sudden severity of her voice. Gone was the cooky old woman, in front of Catra was now an ancient soul with wrinkles deeper than before and eyes older than the first sunrise. There was something personal about it, something so sad and harrowing that she couldn’t bare to look anymore. 

 

“So, let me get this straight, either I ‘atone’ for whatever I’ve done or I’ll feel the pain worsen until I can’t move for the rest of my life?” Catra said and clenched her fists, nails digging into the flesh of her hands. 

 

“I’ve seen it happen before my very eyes,” she said gravely and went back to brewing in her cauldron. 

 

So, Catra could try to apologise to Adora, perhaps even to the whole Rebellion for her wrong-doings or she could live out the rest of her days here in peace, perhaps she could find some poisonous berries or plants and put herself out of her misery before it got too bad. 

 

Catra shook her head and let the thoughts float away. No way in hell was she simply going to kick the bucket, give in, accept defeat like that. Never. Who cared if her foot was supposedly cursed? It had gotten better than when she first woke up, that meant that it was stable for the time being  _ and _ improving. Catra could overcome it, she could train herself to resist the pain, could go outside and try to filter it away. She’d be fine. She was stronger than some stupid curse. It was probably made up, too. What made Catra think that she could trust this Razz-person? She’d gotten comfortable, too comfortable, it was time to move and start doing things. She refused to remain a prisoner to herself anymore, nor to anyone else. 

 

Screw atonement, Catra had never had the luxury of forgiveness and nothing had changed. It was her against the world, just as it had always been.

 

As it would always remain.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> owo what's this? another POV?

 

 

 

It had taken Adora quite a while to recover from the battle, the same went for the Rebellion, and in fact, the Horde. Everything had stood still for about a month, maybe a bit longer, but as she had a tendency to get restless, over a month with nothing to do gave Adora ideas that were probably far too risky and completely impulsive on her part.... Not only because nothing had happened for so long, but because she couldn’t stop worrying about Catra. 

 

It was mostly concerns for her safety. If Catra wanted to stay away then who was Adora to stop her? All she wanted to know was that the other was alive and safe, at least somewhat. It was pure torture to be stuck in a limbo of uncertainty like the one she was in. It had lead her to perhaps isolate herself from her friends a bit, which did far more harm than good, especially since she knew that she would neither find Catra nor feel better if she kept avoiding her friends.

 

Yeah, she definitely needed to talk to someone about it. 

 

So down the familiar hallways she went until she found the door she was looking for. A hand reached up and knocked, once, twice, thrice, but...no answer. 

 

“Adora?”

 

The sudden announcement made her leap up in the air, turn around and take a defensive stance, hands raised in front of her body and feet firmly planted to the ground, as per her instincts. Her hands sunk once she saw that it was only Glimmer. 

 

“Hey, uh, I was actually looking for you? I, well, I thought you were gonna be in your room, but you weren’t and so that’s why I’m here...awkwardly outside your door and...uuuh, yeah...” Her voice trailed off and a hand reach to scratch the back of her neck while her face flushed pink. 

 

“Uh...okay.... Well, I told you that I would be in a meeting today, but I guess you’ve been really spaced out. You must’ve missed it.”

 

There was worry, but also some annoyance in her voice. Adora began shaking her head in an attempt to backtrack. She felt  _ way _ too guilty to spill her anxieties now. Glimmer looked tired, exhausted, like she needed a long nap. Adora was probably exaggerating anyway. Whatever Catra chose to do was none of her business anymore, she’d left, ran away and the only thing left to do was to get over her. They both made their beds and they’d have to lie in them.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I think I’m still just a bit worn out. I probably just need a nap....” she said and took a step back, and another. Glimmer looked confused and like she wanted to reach out, but didn’t say anything else. 

 

“See you at dinner!” Adora sprinted off and back to her room, jumping onto her bed with a frustrated groan.

 

That  _ definitely _ didn’t go to plan.

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

Glimmer had just witnessed a worrying, yet not exactly untypical situation play out between her and her best friend and she was far from surprised. She had a strong feeling about what exactly brought Adora to Glimmer’s room. 

 

It was long overdue, really. Glimmer had been anticipating the Catra-talk (as she’d so beautifully put it) for a long while. First, she’d waited for the initial shock to wear off. Not only from the battle, but from the facts that were revealed during their fight. Adora had told both herself and Bow all about the ordeal between her and Catra. The fight, the harsh (and not so harsh) words exchanged, how she’d disappeared into the forest, but other than a relatively detailed description of the chain of events, Adora hadn’t spoken about it. Over a month had passed and Glimmer had been waiting for the day Adora finally came to tell them how she  _ actually _ felt.

 

The thing was that she didn’t want to rush or pressure her, when she was ready she would tell them, right? 

 

Glimmer wasn’t so sure anymore. So, to help her figure things out she went to get Bow, hoping he’d have some ideas.

 

After some searching and dragging she managed to get Bow to her room where he was currently trying to keep up with Glimmer’s ramblings.

 

“It’s not like I want to rush her or anything! I want her to come to us when she’s ready, but...I’m worried about her,” she complained, then proceeded to sit down on her bed with a conflicted huff. Bow sat down beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders.

 

“Well, Adora tends to be a bit...private sometimes. More than she should be. I agree with you on that she needs some space to think, but I mean, she did technically come to you, then she backed out. Perhaps we need to...y’know, meet her halfway?”

 

A minute later, a devious smile found its way onto her face. “Are you planning an intervention?”

 

“That is  _ exactly _ what I’m planning. A best-friend-squad-intervention,” he replied and grinned, albeit a bit less maliciously than Glimmer. Not to worry, they both had only good intentions. 

 

Mostly.

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

For the first hour of sulking Adora simply stared up at the ceiling, almost mindless save for the endless memories of Catra.

 

Perhaps a part of her blamed herself for the way Catra turned out. Even if she’d done horrible things she wasn’t a horrible person. She was hurt, and not only from Adora leaving, it was from everything. Growing up around Shadow Weaver hadn’t been easy for either of them, but for Catra...the only thing she’d had was a friend, Adora. At least Adora was  _ liked _ by the others and in a fucked up way, Shadow Weaver loved her. So, even if it was a horrible, toxic and conditional love, she’d never truly felt alone or unloved. 

 

Catra had. 

 

She’d only ever relied on Adora to be there for her, protect her, care about her and she’d promised to do the same. They’d always stuck together through thick and thin, but Adora had created a wedge between them and perhaps it was irreparable. Perhaps the differences were too great and perhaps Catra was too far gone.

 

No. 

 

The thought made Adora rise to her feet and pull on her jacket. The sword was securely strapped on her back as she made her way out of the castle, making sure no one noticed her passing.

 

She wouldn’t, couldn’t believe that Catra was too far gone for forgiveness. She could change, perhaps if she just knew that she was forgiven and loved. Perhaps, if she knew that she  _ could _ come back then she would. The thought spurred her on as she dove down into the forests of the Whispering Woods. She had no idea where to look, but...call her crazy, but she honestly believed that if Catra was still in there, or if there was any clue as to where she might’ve gone, the forest would lead her to where she needed to be.

 

-

 

-

 

The sound of leaves and branches breaking under the slashing of her sword was beginning to become tortuous. Adora had been searching for hours with nothing to show for it. No trails, no footsteps, no villages or houses.  _ Nothing. _ There was no sign of Catra and Adora was honestly beginning to consider giving up. Perhaps search elsewhere. If she wasn’t in the Whispering Woods then there were a few close villages. She could maybe ask the other princesses to keep an eye out for Catra.

 

On second thought, Adora realised that it might’ve not been the brightest idea. The others knew exactly who she was and what she’d done, they wouldn’t forgive her as easily unless she proved herself. Until she did that it was probably best to hold off on saying too much to the others. 

 

Her sword broke through another layer of foliage, but when yet another vaguely familiar path appeared that lead to nowhere she screamed in frustration. The sword was thrown into a random direction and Adora punched a tree. 

 

“Fucking shit, ow!” she yelled once the pain registered in her fingers, spreading up to her arm. She let her back hit the tree and slid down, hugging her legs to her chest and burying her face between them.

 

“Please, just let me find her. I need...I  _ need _ to talk to her. She has to know that I...Fuck, I just want her back. I want Catra back, please, just let me have my best friend back, just help me find her....” she said to no one in particular. Perhaps to the trees, all while tears pierced through her eyes and fell down her cheeks. 

 

Why did it have to be so difficult? Why did loving Catra have to be a constant battle of light and dark, of variables fighting to separate them? Why had Adora  _ had _ to go out and look for the stupid sword and why couldn’t Catra have joined her and the Rebellion? Why did Shadow Weaver constantly have to pin them against each other? How long had the cracks been there? Why did she have to constantly live like this?

 

_ Why do you  _ **_let_ ** _ yourself suffer like this? _

 

Adora squeezed her eyes and frantically shook her head, she refused to give in to those thoughts. 

 

_ It would be so much easier to just let go of her. Let her go. She does you more harm than good. _

 

No. Adora refused to listen. Because yes, it was easier to give up. To just tell Catra that she could fuck off and go be evil, to tell her that Adora didn’t want her anymore, but if she did, what did that make her? If the one person who might still be able to get through to Catra gave up then where would that leave her? Where would that leave either of them?

 

So long as Catra was still Catra and Adora was still Adora there was a chance for redemption, for recovery, for survival. 

 

Catra needed to see that she could be forgiven, that she wasn’t alone, that someone still believed in her, that she had a chance at happiness and that there was good in the world. Adora would never give up on the light in Catra, not when she knew that it was still there. 

 

In the midst of all her crying she began to hear something. Almost indistinguishable from the forest noises, but in the distance there were grunts of pain, of frustration maybe. Creaking door hinges. 

 

In a flash, Adora rose to her feet, grabbing her sword and running closer to the noise. 

 

As she approached and the distance grew smaller the voice started sounding more and more like Catra. Was it in her mind? Was she simply trying to hear things that weren’t there? Because while there was definitely a noise, she wasn’t sure that it was Catra and Adora didn’t want to hope for too much. 

 

But she could definitely expect someone to be there, and perhaps they could have a clue about where to find Catra. 

 

Finally, there was a visible clearing, so she knelt behind a bush and watched through the leaves, deciding to first find out what exactly lay beyond the foliage.

 

The sight almost took her breath away, because there was Catra, in the flesh, jumping around on some kind of...jungle gym. To the left she saw a cottage and found it vaguely familiar, and once Madame Razz came out from the creaky door she instantly recognised it. How the hell had  _ Catra _ ended up with Razz? Had she been there all along?

 

Suddenly, Catra fell, plunging down to the ground with a thud. Adora jolted forward by a few inches, but remained hidden, she was itching to go and check on her, but waited, if only just a bit longer. 

 

“Stupid foot, always fucking hurting...” She muttered some more, unintelligible from the distance Adora was at. From the side she could see Catra grab a cane, which perplexed her. Why would Catra need a cane? Especially when she’d been just hopping around as usual. Though as Catra began walking the limp was clear. Why the hell was she limping? Had she injured herself? She must’ve.

 

“My dear, I think you should go check in the bushes. We have a visitor,” Razz said with a mysterious smile and went inside the cottage. 

 

Catra looked confused, and Adora began considering escape, asked herself if she was ready to talk, ready to...what was even her plan? How was she going to go about this? Why had she come in the first place?

 

Panic filled her, and while her first instinct was usually to run away, her body was frozen still as Catra slowly approached the bush where Adora was hiding. 

 

Her steps halted right in front of the bush, and if Adora hadn’t known better she’d think that they were having a staring contest. Their eyes met, but...not quite, Catra was obviously looking at the bush while Adora was intently looking into the other’s eyes. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for.

 

_ Why aren’t you standing up what are you waiting for stop being afraid come on do it do it do it just stand up. _

 

Her head continued chanting phrases, but her body wouldn’t move. At least, not until something in Catra’s eyes flickered. Fear? No. Or maybe?

 

The next thing Adora knew, before she’d even had the chance to announce herself Catra was turning around and proceeding to the cottage, walking as fast as her feet and the cane would carry her. 

 

As soon as the door creaked shut Adora took a deep breath and fell down flat onto the ground, arms splaying out beside her. The sword dug uncomfortably into her back, but she couldn’t be bothered to move for the moment. Why had she been so terrified? She found what she came for, but maybe she just didn’t want to be found lurking in a damn bush. If she’d go knock on the door now, perhaps she could seem less...creepy.

 

So with that she stood up, dusted off her shoulders and took a deep breath. For another moment she simply looked at the cottage. What would she say? Would Catra listen to her? The last time they’d talked, well...it hadn’t exactly gone well for either of them. 

 

Then again, the adrenaline and stress levels had definitely been high during the battle, it wasn’t like Catra had been in the best mindset to talk about her feelings, which Adora knew and understood. Redemption wouldn’t happen over a day even if Catra had agreed then and there, but Adora had desperately wished for it to be so.

 

“Get your stuff together, Adora. Go talk to her. Catra’s no one to be afraid of. That’s your best friend, or...well, you used to be.... Gaah, just go talk to her! The words will come by themselves. Go on,” she muttered to herself and shook her shoulders in an attempt to shake away the worry. 

 

It didn’t really help.

 

Then, from somewhere to her right some bushes rustled, and then again. Her head quickly turned, eyes scanning the area for the source, but the bushes remained silent as ever. It had probably just been an animal. Whatever it had been seemed to be gone now, so with determination she turned to the cottage, just about to take her first step out of the bushes, but she didn’t get much further.

 

Before she could even register what had happened something solid connected with the back of her head, pain quickly spreading as she plunged into unconsciousness. 

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

Back at the castle Glimmer and Bow had finally decided to take on mission Adora and...help her talk about the feelings that she’d probably kept inside for so long. 

 

The reason they sounded so threatening (which they totally knew they were being) was because they had in mind to tickle her until she relented, seeing as they both knew that Adora didn’t make it easy for herself to open up, but it was all in good spirits. Afterwards, everyone felt a bit better. If she didn’t open up, it would at the very least help with the bad mood she’d been in.

 

“So, if she wants to look for Catra....” Glimmer asked, sneaking a worried glance towards Bow who sighed heavily. 

 

“Well, we can try to stop her, but first of all, she’s She-Ra, there are very few ways  _ we _ can stop her, second of all, She-Ra or not, she’ll find a way to do it on her own. So, if we can’t stop her from going I guess we’ll just have to come with her. Make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

 

“So you think Catra will attack her again?”

 

Bow seemed to think about it for a moment, considering all of the circumstances and Glimmer did the same. She considered how much she personally disliked Catra and considered everything she’d done....

 

“I honestly hope not, but...I don’t know,” Bow said with a heavy sigh.

 

Glimmer remained silent as she knocked on the door, but no grunt of acknowledgement came. 

 

Weird. 

 

Adora couldn’t be sleeping. She had a hard time sleeping at night, so a daytime nap was even less likely. Sure, they’d all been tired and exhausted, Adora including, but even then, she hadn’t succumbed to exhaustion like the rest of them. At least not by sleeping. Not to mention that she was a light sleeper, she’d have woken up from a firm knock.

 

They tried to open the door, but it was locked.

 

Even weirder.

 

The pair exchanged a glance and nod as Glimmer teleported inside to unlock the door, but what she found once she entered made her worry increase tenfold. 

 

The door unlocked and Glimmer stared at Bow, horrified.  

 

“She’s gone!”

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4; Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adora finally talks to catra, but the question is: did she get more or less than she bargained for?
> 
> catra loses control and acts out of fear

 

 

 

Adora’s head was pounding as she woke up. She felt disoriented and dreadfully tired, the kind of heavy that turned the blood in her veins into lead. 

 

Then she remembered what had happened right before passing out. 

 

Ignoring the throbbing head and slow limbs she shot up and looked around, reaching for the sword on her back, only to find it missing. She frantically looked around the room to find it leaning against a chair in the corner, her jacket there as well. 

 

“Hey, Adora,” came the familiar purr. Adora’s eyes shot up to the voice and yelled, startled by how close Catra had come. 

 

She’d in fact been sitting there since Adora had been dragged inside and placed onto the cot, waiting for her to wake up. Catra had contemplated exactly how to greet the other once awakened, one approach included not saying anything until Adora noticed, another was to sound annoyed, perhaps angry, but it just wasn’t right, none of it did. Though, she  _ definitely _ hadn’t meant to purr in that manner. 

 

Adora hadn’t expected it either. She hadn’t expected Catra at all, then again, she didn’t know what else it could have been. So she put a hand on the back of her head, hoping to soothe the pain somewhat. 

 

“So, was it you that hit me over the head? Not that I really understand why, I wasn’t doing anything,” she said and chuckled dryly. 

 

“Yeah, well, I saw your sword and got pissed off.”

 

Adora scoffed, eyes widening. “So you decided to  _ hit me over the head? _ ” 

 

Catra huffed and looked away, the previous greeting all but forgotten, now replaced with a scowl and crossed arms. It was barely there, but Adora was pretty sure that she could see her lower lip poking out ever so slightly in what was a mildly endearing pout.

 

“I don’t want you here. Was tempted to drag you right back to Bright Moon, but Razz convinced me to take you inside,” she muttered and Adora’s face brightened up immediately. 

 

Catra found herself looking at that stupid face, how could she look so pleased when her head was almost just bashed in? By Catra nonetheless? What had she even come for in the first place? Hadn’t the message been delivered loud and clear that she wanted nothing to do with neither the rebels nor the Horde?

 

“Madame Razz is here?” Then Adora remembered. Right before blacking out while she was watching Catra she’d seen Razz. It came back to her. “Right, yes, we’re in her cottage, sorry,” she mumbled and shook her head. 

 

“I can get her, if you want.”

 

“No, I...I actually came out here to talk to you, or well, I was looking for you and I was almost about to give up, but well, the forest kind of showed me to you,” she said and sheepishly looked down into her lap, a tentative smile on her face. 

 

“Why the hell would you want to talk to me?” 

 

“Because I wanted to know that you were okay, that you were...safe, I guess, I dunno.” Adora trailed off and began fiddling with the blanket she had on her. Pulling away loose threads and occasionally peeking up glances at Catra to gauge her reaction, but it proved fruitless. She hardly reacted at all, for a start anyhow. 

 

Inside her head was another story, though. Catra’s mind was whirling with emotion and thoughts, a confusing mess of junk, mostly. Had Adora, of all people, wanted to make sure Catra was safe? After what they’d been through? After what they’d both done?

 

“Well, I’m alive, not sure how much it counts for, though,” she said and chuckled cynically at nothing in particular, staring into the wall now. 

 

“It counts for a lot, Catra. I...As soon as you left I wanted to go after you, but there was the battle and then there were restoration efforts and diplomat meetings and I didn’t know where to look, but I wanted to find you, to tell you that...just to see if...I just wanted to know that you were okay.”

 

Her voice was soft, eyes refusing to meet Catra’s, suddenly. Her shoulders relaxed and whatever else she’d planned to say seemed to drift away, her mouth kept opening and closing, but the silence remained. Bordering on awkward, but mostly it was just...tense. Filled with words and emotions they were both too unsure about to speak aloud.

 

Before Catra could compose a response the door creaked open. 

 

“Ah, she’s awakened. I brought some water from the lake,” Razz said, putting the bucket on a table and dunking a cup inside, then handing it to Adora. 

 

Adora eyed the clear liquid before quickly gulping it down, she hadn’t even begun stretching her arm out before Razz took the cup from her hands and refilled it. 

 

“Thank you,” Adora muttered and drank it down with equal eagerness, then placed it down on the ground next to her. 

 

“You don’t happen to have anything against headaches, do you?” she asked, sneaking a pointed look towards Catra.

 

She curled in on herself, but didn’t lose her scowl. She wouldn’t show regret now. What would Adora think of her? Reckless. Violent. Dangerous. The least that Catra could do was to at least appear strong, distant, put together or something along those lines rather than the others. 

 

“I have some herbs that I could grind down into some tea. Do you like tea? I hope you do, this one certainly does.” Madame Razz stuck her thumb out towards Catra. 

 

“Tea’s fine.”

 

While Adora waited for her tea she tried to occupy herself, she’d never done good with silences, or sitting still, idleness in general had never suited Adora, but for some reason Catra’s piercing stare kept her pinned where she sat. 

 

“What the hell are you looking at?” she asked, finally meeting Catra’s eyes. For the briefest second she looked spooked, but then she just huffed and looked away. 

 

“Should’ve hit you harder. You’re annoying even when you don’t speak.”

 

“I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have come here.” Adora’s eyes lingered in Catra’s curled up form before looking away and into her lap, trying to look pissed off, but she was certain that the hurt shined through. 

 

“Finally you’re getting the hint. Seems you’ve become slower since switching your allegiances,  _ princess. _ ” she said with an exaggerated accent, probably meant to sound regal or something. It made Adora flinch. “You must excuse me, your highness, the sight of you leaves me quite ill.”

 

With that, Catra limped out of the cottage, fast-paced steps that were obviously painful if the clenched fists were any indication. Or perhaps that was just Adora’s presence aggravating her.

 

The silence continued for a moment before the whistling of a kettle begun and Adora looked to Madame Razz who was pouring up her tea. A part of her wondered how Catra had stood out with Razz, Adora hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, but she’d gathered some things. Razz was kind, but definitely weird and mildly annoying at times. Then again, it has seemed that Catra hadn’t had much of a choice. 

 

“She didn’t do it on purpose. Well, it was intentional, but she thought the rebels were here to capture her, she didn’t know that it was only you. She saw your sword and acted. As she has a tendency to do,” Razz explained, sitting down beside the cot on a small, padded stool.

 

Adora took the tea and began sipping, trying to process the information. “What? About the hit over the head thing?”

 

“Yes. She didn’t act out of anger or cruelty, she was...afraid. She’s very afraid, I’ve noticed.”

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

They were quiet for quite a while, Razz milling about the cottage, tidying, or making even more of a mess, Adora couldn’t quite tell. She drank up the whole cup of tea and decided that she  _ needed _ to talk to Catra. If she was afraid then it was up to Adora to make it better. It was partially her fault anyway. 

 

“Thank you, for everything, Razz.” Adora stopped in the doorframe, turning her head slightly to address her.

 

“No worries, my dear.”

 

She went outside, stretching her neck and shoulders and felt the ache slowly fading. That tea had done wonders for her head, but it probably wouldn’t prevent the bump that would inevitably form in a couple of hours. Perhaps it hadn’t been entirely uncalled for. 

 

She saw Catra climbing and jumping her way around the structure she’d built, it was quite impressive. Obviously hand-made, but looking very sturdy, it must’ve been Catra who built it by herself, and it couldn’t have been easy with the limp either. Damn, she must’ve powered through so much pain.

 

Adora watched her swing from one branch on another, quickly spinning so her feet were planted on top as she jumped even higher onto a small platform, where she remained perched for a while. It seemed to be the highest point. From there, she leaped to a net where she climbed down and jumped onto a plank behind her. She wondered if Catra had noticed that she had an audience.

 

And oh, she’d noticed, desperately trying not to let it affect her. Adora could watch all she wanted, Catra wouldn’t jump down and speak to her, she wasn’t just going to do whatever Adora wanted, following her every lead. She snarled to herself before attempting to jump over one of the branches to the next one, but she hadn’t been able to do that on a good day, so her foot slid and she tumbled down, down, down and landed on the dirt with a thud, the air knocked out of her lungs.

 

“Catra!” Adora yelled, running up to her and stretching out a hand to help her up. 

 

Catra didn’t accept it. 

 

Instead, she hopped up onto her feet, tried to hide her wincing and dusted herself off. 

 

“What...what happened to your foot?” she asked and earned a scowl in return.

 

“Why do you care?” she muttered and began limping away, but Adora reached out and grabbed her arm. She’d needed to speak with her for so long, she wasn’t about to just let her go. She’d already made that mistake once.

 

“Because we’re  _ friends, _ Catra. Because I...I feel guilty, because I miss you.”

 

There was a cynical scoff and a shaking of her head, but still Catra stayed. “We’re not friends. Not anymore.”

 

“Because you keep letting go! You keep throwing this away, but we can  _ fix this! _ ” 

 

Catra spun on her heels beginning to move forward, pushing Adora further and further back until she tripped over a stone. The other loomed above her, eyes glassy, but wild nonetheless. 

 

“ _ You _ are the one who keeps letting go!  _ You _ left! You threw me away like I was nothing to you, like what we had meant nothing! I might be the monster here, but you’re not without fault. Get off your fucking high horse, princess.”

 

“You’re not a monster to me,” she whispered, but her eyes were still fearful. If what Adora said was true, then she wouldn’t be looking up at Catra with wide eyes, lips pursed tightly together with what could be nothing other than fear. 

 

“I tried to kill you.”

 

“And I forgive you.”

 

Adora wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t scared that Catra would hurt her, she was just terrified that she’d lose her for good. She couldn’t lose her, the one thing she had left from her childhood, from her past. Ever since she’d become a rebel, become She-Ra her life had changed for the better, but at the same time she felt like she was losing her sense of identity. Everything that had still been good about her past faded and it terrified her. If she lost Catra then...she didn’t know who she’d become.

 

“You’re an awful liar, Adora,” she said and winced as a spark of pain shot up her leg, reminding her that she wasn’t forgiven. If Adora had been telling the truth her leg would’ve been better, right? 

 

“Please, just tell me what happened, maybe...maybe I can help?” Adora stared at Catra’s leg, now looking more worried than frightened.

 

It took Catra a while to understand what she’d meant, but then the other shoe dropped and she recoiled, giving enough space for Adora to stand up. 

 

She refused! Over her dead body. Catra would rather  _ die _ than to have that sword anywhere near her body. Whether it was out to hurt her or heal her. 

 

“Don’t you dare. If you come within ten feet of me holding that sword, looking like... _ her _ then I will find the nearest cliff and jump.”

 

Adora stared for a while, contemplating. “Fine, okay, deal, but could you please just tell me what happened? I promise I won’t try to heal you without permission, I just want to know.”

 

Grumbling, she went to sit down on one of the benches outside of the cottage and stared at Adora until the other finally sat down beside her. 

 

“It was while I was running away from the battle. My foot got trapped between the ground and some odd branch, it was stupid. I didn’t watch where I was going, being so goddamn desperate to just...run away. Get as far away as I could before the Horde noticed I was gone and came looking for me. Anyway, I noticed that my foot hurt, like, really bad, there were thorns and it was twisted oddly and I could barely walk. I grabbed a stick and hopped as far as I could, until I passed out....”

 

Catra paused briefly and looked at Adora, and then back down at her foot, asked herself if she could tell her about the curse. If she didn’t, then she could avoid the pity, the worry, maybe finally get her off her back. If she did, Adora would never stop nagging her about atonement, that she could earn it, because she was wrong. Catra would die by the curse no matter what she did. What was the point in telling her?

 

“I woke up here with Razz and found out that my foot was broken, so I rested up, let it heal, until about two weeks ago, when I decided that I’d healed enough and that it would be better to train it. So, I built that thing over there and decided to work through it. Razz said that it would heal with time if I just kept exercising it.”

 

Adora eyed the foot suspiciously, something about it didn’t seem right to her. It felt like she wasn’t getting the whole truth. Why wouldn’t she let her foot heal up? Why was she still limping? If it hurt so bad, why did she insist on continuing? Then again, Catra had always been the stubborn kind, not even letting broken bones hinder her from moving. In that regard they’d always been alike. Restlessness made them anxious and fidgety, left them trapped inside their own heads for too long. She would never have expected herself to sit still for that long, so she couldn’t really expect it from Catra either. 

 

“So it’s getting better?” If it wasn’t getting worse, if it was healing, then who was she to intervene when it was the last thing that Catra wanted?

 

“Yeah,” she lied and leaned back. 

 

They stayed silent for a long while and Adora opened her mouth to speak, she felt hope that maybe Catra could be convinced. Sure, she hadn’t taken too well to it, but perhaps if Adora eased her into it. Made peace with her, became friends, healed what had been broken, maybe then they could move past whatever had happened in the past, maybe they could forgive each other and themselves for their wrong-doings.

 

“You know, even if you don’t believe me, I do forgive you—”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Adora—”

 

“Let’s just start off as friends, like what we used to be. A clean slate, no Shadow Weaver, no conflicts of interests, nothing to stop us from doing it right this time.”

 

Catra considered it, really, truly considered it. Was this the path to atonement? To do it right? A do-over sounded...nice, but.... Her leg pulsed harder, maybe it was her own heart racing or maybe it was a sign.

 

“I can’t pretend like you didn’t abandon me and you can’t pretend that I didn’t try to kill you.”

 

Adora was annoyingly persistent and Catra couldn’t for the life of her understand why that was. Catra was  _ nothing _ compared to everyone else in Adora’s life. Not anymore. They’d moved well past the point of redemption and it felt like everyone knew that except Adora. Well, not that she’d gotten many other perspectives on the matter, but really, how many were needed when their situation was as transparent as it was?

 

“If you’d just give us a chance, please, you don’t have to be scared. We can get it back, what we used to be—”

 

“Geez, Adora!” Catra bounced up from her seat, ignoring the ache in her foot and gripped her hair so hard she could accidentally rip it out. “Has it ever crossed your stupid head that maybe I don’t  _ want _ to be friends again? This isn’t some pretty princess story where everyone lives happily ever after! We might’ve been friends before you left, and perhaps we still would’ve been if not for the Horde, if not for Shadow Weaver, the war and whatever else the universe has thrown at us, but grow up! The only reason we became friends in the first place was so Shadow Weaver could manipulate and control us!”

 

Adora stood up as well, her eyes were glassy and she spoke quickly, stumbling over her words. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She knew, or thought, hoped, wished that it was Catra’s way of pushing Adora away, that it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be! If Catra really didn’t care about her then why had she kept trying to get Adora to come back? Why hadn’t she killed her while She-Ra was at her mercy?

 

“I know you’re just trying to push me away, but I won’t let you! I know you’re terrified. I am too, but—”

 

Catra  _ pounced. _ Adora yelped as she fell down flat onto her back, the position felt vaguely familiar and there was a fierce anger in the other’s eyes, but paired with fear, apparent and obvious fear. 

 

“You  _ ruined _ me! You made me feel like I’d never be good enough and look where I am now! Don’t you dare talk to me about being terrified, because I’m hated on both sides, probably hunted by both, too. I’ll never have a life again. You were always good, always the golden child, always a hero, but I never got that. You were loved, at the very least wanted wherever you went, you still are! And I’m the monster, the beast.  Shadow Weaver still wanted you! Even when you were gone and I became Force Captain! She was willing to throw me away, just like that. Like everyone has.... Even if I wanted to be good I wouldn’t know where to start, and now I never will. Because the damn curse will never stop hurting and I will never atone and I almost killed the only person I—”

 

They both panted and Catra’s mind halted, coming to a complete stop. Like a defense mechanism. She’d overshared. Said too much. 

 

“Do...do you at least regret it? Do you wish that you hadn’t, you know.... Are you feeling any remorse?”

 

There was a silence as Catra thought about it. Did she? Was she feeling guilty about it? Did she care? What if she didn’t? What did that mean? Nothing she didn’t already know. Her fists clenched, bunching up Adora’s shirt.

 

“Adora....” she said, almost warned.

 

“Don’t say it like that,  _ please, _ I know there’s still some good in you, there has to be, we can fix this, please—”

 

Catra’s claws slashed across her cheek, blood immediately surfacing and Catra once again froze up. She hadn’t meant to do it, she just wanted things to be quiet, for Adora to shut up, to understand why they could never go back to what they used to be. 

 

“I’m a monster, Adora. Get it through your thick skull before I claw your guts out as well. This time around, I won’t hesitate.”

 

They both knew it wasn’t true. Catra didn’t have the strength to kill Adora, because no matter what she said to the other, she cared, a lot more than she should. In Catra’s head, the more they both grappled for change the more they’d fall apart. It was better to push her away to protect them both, spare some good memories than to try something that would inevitably fail and spoil whatever past they still had. If she was finally rid of Adora then perhaps they’d both be better off.

 

Adora saw the goodness that Catra couldn’t see, but perhaps Catra was right and it wouldn’t work. She knew that healing was possible, she could save Catra, she had to, but perhaps...this would be yet another thing that she’d fail to do. Perhaps she could try again some other time, but she would never have gotten anywhere with the method she was using. At the rate she was going they were on a sure path to bitter enemies. Not that they’d ever been far off from it. 

 

Then there were voices in the background, yelling Adora’s name. 

 

Her eyes widened and a small whisper fell past her lips. 

 

“Oh no.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaahhh, i have been pretty stressed out regarding school, but i'm still definitely updating the fic, so here's a new chapter
> 
> am i uploading this just to make up for not posting CSB[B]P last week? nooooo, of course not (uh, yes)
> 
> also i am considering making a fan account (probably on IG) to interact more with the fandom and perhaps y'all who are reading, yes or no???

**Author's Note:**

> this is a new little project i've been meaning to start for a while, running parallell with my klance fic (which y'all should totally check out! *wink wonk*) for the moment i'll update when i get the chapter done, but i will update! but until CSB[B]P is finished it'll be mildly inconsistent updates, but i hope you stick around nonetheless!


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